


The Sound Of Your Laughter

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s08e17 Empedocles, F/M, Fictober, Fluff, Season 8, pregnant scully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16610939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Scully is miserable during her pregnancy and Mulder does his best to make her laugh.





	The Sound Of Your Laughter

To say Scully is miserable is the understatement of the year. She looks as if the world was ending. No, she looks as if it has ended already and she is the last person left. Mulder gets it. Almost. Not long ago that was exactly how he felt, too. That’s a line of thinking he doesn’t want to pursue today or in the near future, though. That’s for therapy. There should be nothing but happiness in this apartment. Scully is pregnant with their child after all. Theirs, his and hers. Numerous tests have confirmed just that. Every now and then, the thought still feels strange. It’s all so new, so exciting but oh so scary. Today is not for those thoughts either. Today is let’s make Scully laugh day.

They put her on bed rest following her partial abruption. They wanted to keep her there, but Scully, claiming her medical doctor status, wouldn’t hear of it. Now here she is, confined to her bed, pouting all day long. Her mother has come over, has talked to her and made her soup. Mulder tries to stay away as much as possible when Mrs. Scully is around, but she keeps calling for him, asking him all sorts of questions. He’s beginning to think she really does like him and wants him in her daughter’s life. A crazy thought.

“Hey, Scully,” Mulder says, his head peeking inside her bedroom. “You want anything?” She’s sitting against the headboard, wearing her own pajama pants and some old t-shirt he thinks must have belonged to him once. At least he hopes it’s one of his.

“I want to get up and go to work,” she replies, closing the book she’s been reading.

“I was thinking something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” she grumbles. Mulder doesn’t dare step inside. He’s slept in her bed once or twice since he’s come back from the dead. Or rather he lay there, his eyes wide open, while Scully slumbered away next to him. He wished himself back to the pre-Oregon days, cuddling and laughing right before sleep whenever Scully allowed him to stay over. Now he isn’t sure he is allowed to set foot into her bedroom.

“Mulder, you standing there makes me nervous. It reminds me that I can’t walk around. Get in or get out.” That’s when he decides to get in after all. He is a man with a plan. He wants to make Scully smile. Or even laugh. That is the holy grail these days.

“So no food? Can I make you some tea?”

“Could you at least bring me a file to read, Mulder?” Her eyes plead with him, but he gently shakes his head no. “You’re supposed to rest.”

“Mulder, I’m bored.” He wonders if he is like this, too, whenever he is on bed rest. Neither of them is good at standing still, at doing nothing.

“Hey, didn’t you say the other day you wanted to clear out your closet? We could do that.”

“How?” She asks, obviously interested.

“I’ll go through it and you tell me what to keep and what to throw out.”

“I like the idea,” she admits almost grudgingly. Score one for Mulder.

Who knew Scully owned that many clothes? She’s always wearing the same damn, boring things. Not that he doesn’t enjoy seeing her in a skirt and a blazer. But all these t-shirts that look like they might hug her really, really nicely. He wouldn’t mind seeing her in those either. He holds one of them up, Scully considers, then condemns it to the ‘toss it’ pile. Mulder pouts; it was a white, thin shirt. She would have been stunning in it. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because the next garment is his favorite by far.

“Scully, why…,” he chuckles, holding up the shirt. Scully’s eyes grow wide before they soften. A smile flits over her face, but it’s a sad one.

“Missy gave that to me years ago. She won it in some competition.” Mulder won’t ask what competition it was. He holds the pink t-shirt that reads “Glitter Girl!” in silver letters close to him. There is no way she’s not going to keep it. That’s what he thinks, anyway.

“Toss it, I guess,” she says.

“But Scully…”

“I’m not going to wear it, Mulder. I’ve never worn it. It was a joke. So why keep it? Or do you want to wear it?” Her eyebrow goes up, challenging him. Without taking his eyes off of her, he takes off his t-shirt. The pink shirt is small, really small, and tight. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself. He squeezes his head through the small round neck and almost chokes himself. He hears Scully giggle and that sound is worth everything. His head goes through finally and he knows his hair is all messed up. He grins at Scully before he tugs at the material so that it goes over his chest, over his stomach. It sits tight – very much so – but it fits. In a way.

“No tossing this,” Mulder says, out of breath. It’s easier if he doesn’t breathe too much or too deeply. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” Scully smiles at him. “Like a true glitter girl.”

“It’s only fair if I get one of your shirts,” he says, looking at her. “You have at least one of mine.” Scully blushes, confirming it. “Lucky for you that I love seeing you in my shirts, Scully.”

“You’ll get it back,” Scully promises with a set of pink cheeks.

“I don’t want them back. They’re yours. You look better in them than I ever could. I’m going to keep this one, though, if you don’t mind.”

“You do look cute.” She smiles. How he’s missed her smile. If he wasn’t afraid that she’d roll her eyes at him, he’d wax poetry. Compare her eyes with sapphires, her smile with the sun. But he says none of these things. He is still a man on a mission.

“Scully?”

“Hm?”

“How would you like a kiss from your very own glitter girl?” He bats his eyes at her and it works. Her face is frozen for a moment and then she laughs. The sound reverberates through his whole body. He grins, waits and just listens.

“I’d love a kiss, Mulder.” Score 2 and 3 for Mulder. They’ve both won.


End file.
